Jackson Rippner and Mister Sardonicus
by Arthur Delapore
Summary: When Lisa and her father take a trip to the Carpathian Mountains of Romania, they meet the gently sinister Thomas, the cryptic Mr. Sardonicus, and Jackson Rippner. A Gothic Romance sequel to Red Eye. CHAPTER SIX IS NOW UP
1. A Journey to the Carpathians

Jackson Rippner and Mister Sardonicus

Episode One: A Journey to the Carpathians

It had all happened so abruptly. One moment, Lisa was doing her job in Florida at her hotel, and then in another instant she was in the Carpathian Mountains in Romania with her dad.

"Just look at those mountains!" her dad exclaimed. She tried to join in with enthusiasm, but the truth was that she couldn't help but think about _Dracula _and other vampiric personalities when she thought of Romania. And the mist-covered crags reminded her more of something out of a Roger Corman horror flick than a summer vacation.

Still, though, she had to pretend, at least, that she was enjoying herself—for her dad's sake. And it was pretty, in a Gothic sort of way.

They were driving down one of the rocky, wooded side roads, looking for a hotel, when the car inconveniently broke down.

"Ah, shit!" her dad exclaimed.

"How far are we from the hotel?" Lisa asked.

"At least a mile or two," her dad groaned. "And I'm worn out."

Lisa was about to reply, when suddenly a light, soft voice behind her asked inquiringly, "Is anything the matter?"

Lisa turned to see a slight young man with dark hair and cold, grey eyes looking at her father's car appraisingly.

"Our car broke down," Lisa's dad said shortly.

"I'm afraid I don't know much about cars," the young man replied. "But I can take you somewhere to stay, if you'd like."

"We'd like that a lot," Joe Reisert said before Lisa could reply.

The young man made a curious motion with his fingers and a powerful-looking ebony steed trotted over to him.

"I'll go get a car," the young man said, mounting his horse. "You two stay right here. I'll be back as soon as I can."

"Just a second, young man," Reisert called out. "What's your name?"

The stranger glanced at him. "Thomas," he replied, with a respectful nod in Reisert's direction, before riding away out of sight in the thick, darkening forest.


	2. Castle Sardonicus

Episode Two: Castle Sardonicus

Disclaimer: The character of Mr. Sardonicus is not my own creation, but that of the little known but no less wonderful author Ray Russell who I completely recommend to anyone who has never come across him. The tale Mr. Sardonicus appears in is aptly named _Sardonicus _and was made into a movie in the 1960's which I have not seen; however Stephen King declared that _Sardonicus _was the greatest modern Gothic short story, so if my own recommendation is not enough, then I hope his is.

Thomas returned in a short time in a rickety old automobile, which looked straight out of an old 1920's photograph, and in it Lisa Reisert and her father drove down the winding road.

"I'm afraid that you're going to have to stay at my employer's house until you can get your car fixed," Thomas explained. "Because this car belongs to him, and I am afraid it doesn't have enough gas to get you to the town and back."

"That's fine," Joe Reisert said. "Where we going?"

"To Castle Sardonicus," Thomas said the name with a smile that Lisa could only describe as sardonic.

"And who is your employer," Lisa asked.

"He's my uncle actually, but I work for him," Thomas replied. "His name is Mister Sardonicus. And so, to introduce myself fully, I am Mr. Thomas Sardonicus."

Lisa nodded, but her eyes were still on Thomas. There was something eerily fascinating about the young man; his eyes were full of a thoughtful wistfulness, and yet an ironic smile seemed to twist his lips every once and a while in the middle of conversation, and there was an underlying hint of a coldly calculating and impersonal aspect to his personality that belied the almost gentle sweetness of his expression.

Lisa was interrupted in her thoughts when the car stopped suddenly and the realized that they were outside a great iron gate. On the front of the gate was a huge, ornate letter 'S' wrought in the iron-work. Thomas got out of the car to unlock the door and came back, driving the car past the gate towards the towering stone castle up ahead.

"My uncle and I have a rather old-fashioned system here," Thomas explained. "You'll just have to pretend you're a Victorian for a bit. We have another visitor here, too, I think."

"Who?" Lisa asked.

There was something oddly cold about Thomas's tone of voice. "I don't know his name," Thomas said. "Or at least his last name. I think his first name was Jack or Jackson or something like that."

Lisa tried to hide her shock. "You don't remember his last name?" she asked, trying to sound calm.

"No," Thomas replied. "I'm afraid not."


	3. The de la Poers

Episode Three: The de la Poers 

Note: Thanks for the complimentary reviews, folks! The more I get, the faster I tend to update a story, since I don't really work on stories that aren't being read. So, as many other writers on this site say, the more reviews I get, the better and faster the updates are! Also, try checking out another story of mine called "That Touch of Puritan" (you'll find it on my profile page), because it's much in the same vein as this one, and you don't really need to be familiar with _Pirates of the Caribbean _to understand what's going on.

Lisa and her dad got out of the car and followed Thomas inside the towering castle. Its walls seemed to reek of age and past lives that had flourished and died within its walls. The high tapestries that hung from the ceiling and from the walls seemed to move in the draft that wafted through the air, ghost-like, sending a chill up Lisa's spine.

"I will go get my uncle," Thomas said, moving away down the hall.

Joe Reisert peered around the dusty castle hallway. "What a place!" he muttered.

"We don't even know this man," Lisa pointed out.

"I'm afraid you don't have any choice but to stay here," Thomas's quiet voice behind her caused Lisa to start and turn around.

"Oh, I'm sorry for startling you," he said with another of his ironic smiles. "I just wanted to let you know that my uncle isn't feeling too well right now, but that he says he'll come down and meet you both at dinner."

"If it's not convenient for us to stay, then we'll leave," Lisa said quickly.

"Oh, no, I didn't mean that at all!" Thomas assured her. "Convenient? Of course it's convenient! We have more room here than we need. And as I said before, you really have no choice but to stay here. We're miles from any village or hotel, and to try and drive there at this time of night would be no good, for we would be set on by robbers and gypsies almost immediately. No, I'm afraid you'll have to stay with us—at least until the morning."

Lisa hesitated, but Joe Reisert said, "That sounds good enough to me! What rooms will we stay in?"

"Follow me and I'll show you," Thomas replied.

They followed him up a winding, spiral staircase made out of solid, granite stone. The air seemed to grow thinner and colder the higher they went, instead of warmer—which is the way it usually is in older houses.

"This place will be crowded around tonight, I should say," Thomas remarked.

"What do you mean?" Lisa asked.

"The de la Poer family is coming here to stay for a while," Thomas replied grimly. "We've tried to keep them off as long as we could, but hospitality—always a nuisance in these sorts of matters—has made it necessary for us to invite them over. After all, this was once their castle. We bought it from them; and not to mention, my uncle loves their company."

"Do you?" Lisa asked.

"The de la Poers are like a bitter wine," Thomas replied with a sardonic smile. "Sharp and hard to swallow at first, but also at times almost intoxicating."


	4. Richard de la Poer

Episode Four: Richard de la Poer

"They'll be arriving any moment now," Thomas glanced at Lisa with a thoughtful look in his grey eyes. "I don't believe I caught your name, by the way."

Lisa looked back at him. His dark eyes twinkled with an ironic expression that she couldn't quite understand. "My name's Lisa," she replied.

"Well, I'm pleased to meet you, Lisa," he said with a mocking nod. There was a knock at the door. "That will be the de la Poers, I expect. I'd better get the door."

"Don't you have any servants around here?" Lisa asked.

"None whatsoever, I'm afraid," Thomas said cheerfully. "You can come down, too, my dear. My uncle will be coming very soon, so you'll want to meet him."

He moved past her, his slight figure moving like a quick, dark shadow down the stone stairway towards the door. Lisa looked around, wondering where her father was. She guessed that he was probably in their own room, but at the same time, she heard the creaking of the great doors of the castle open, and she turned to see a queerly dressed assembly come in.

They seemed queerly dressed, for most of them were wearing the sort of garb that used to be common a century or so ago—during the Victorian or eighteenth century periods. The women wore flowing skirts and feathered hats and the men had lacy collars and velvet breeches. But there seemed to Lisa to be no jollity in the group; in fact, they seemed a little grim and watchful.

As if from the shadows, a man appeared. He was dressed in the same sort of elegant finery that the de la Poers were wearing, but what caught Lisa's eye was the horrible paralyzed smile on his face.

She realized that it was not a natural smile; no human could wear that skull-like grin for long. He was obviously a sufferer of that terrible disease known as _Risus Sardonicus_; a disease that results in the permanent paralyzing of the mouth so that the lips stretch out to form a terrible grin.

"Good evening, my dear," he said. Lisa noticed how he had difficulty pronouncing words because of his inability to move his lips.

"You are...Mr. Sardonicus?" Lisa asked, trying to ignore his unnatural grin.

He nodded and then turned to the de la Poers. "Ah, my friends," he said. "It has been too long since we have joined together under this roof. Lady Margaret, you are looking very well this evening. Why don't we have a dance before we begin our dinner?"

Lisa heard a mournful violin playing a discordant waltz from a nearby alcove, though she couldn't spot the player. The de la Poers were already dancing a somber, funereal sort of dance to the dolorous dirge. Lisa turned to see where her father was, when a hand gripped her wrist and she turned to see a strange man.

"Oh--you must be one of the de la Poers," she said.

He nodded. He was a gaunt-faced man with a moustache and a rather silken, sinister grin of his own. "That's right, my dear," he said. "Richard de la Poer." He smiled at her again, though his grip was no less tight. "Won't you join me in a dance?"

Lisa was still heady from the surreal nature of her surroundings. She almost felt as if she was in another world entirely. "All right," she said finally.


	5. A Short and Pertinent History of

Episode Five: A Short and Pertinent History of the de la Poers

Note: I'm so glad you all are enjoying this tale of mine! Yes, it is more Gothic Romance than "Red Eye", but don't worry: Jackson Rippner is going to appear in future chapters! He's just biding his time. And in the meantime, here's the next installment.

After a half an hour of dancing with Richard, Lisa felt exhausted. But she didn't want to seem rude, so she decided to divert his attention to something other than dancing for a moment.

"Is your family—the de la Poers, I mean—are they originally from England?" Lisa asked.

Richard nodded with a thin smile. "Yes, though we are of Norman descent," he replied. "Our ancestral home, Exham Priory is outside Anchester. It's a nice place; have you ever heard of the New England writer H.P. Lovecraft?"

"Of course!" Lisa replied. "Who hasn't?"

"Well, his story _The Rats in the Walls_ is based on the history of one of our family members," Richard explained. "And it has quite a bit of background information on our family as well; perhaps a little more than we'd like to have mad public. After all, our family has something of a reputation."

"A reputation for what?" Lisa asked.

"All sorts of nefarious things," Richard replied with another thin smile. He glanced over her shoulder and his smile turned to a forced smirk. "Ah, Thomas Sardonicus, eh?"

Lisa turned to see Thomas look up in surprise at Richard.

"What a surprise to see you!" Richard said, coming towards the young man. "I didn't know that you were still staying with your uncle!"

Thomas smiled, a little coldly. "Good evening, Mr. De La Poer," he murmured. "I am surprised to see you here. I didn't think that you would be coming, to tell you the truth."

"And why not, Thomas?" Richard returned.

"Because I thought you were still in Anchester attending your uncle's funeral," Thomas returned Richard's sneering gaze with a look equally irreverent. "But I suppose a funeral wouldn't keep you from attending a party, now, would it?"

"As you can see, my dear Thomas, funerals hardly keep anyone from attending a party," Richard gestured towards the rest of the de la Poers in the room. "And besides, my uncle probably brought on his own demise, you know. Delving around in eldritch pasts best left forgotten…that sort of thing. Now if what your uncle says is true, then I take it that you are something of a 'wretched young delver' yourself, eh?"

Thomas's sinister smile deepened. "Richard de la Poer," he said mockingly. "I would truly love to continue this delightful conversation, but unfortunately I have some more important things to do. I hope you have a pleasant evening with Miss Reisert."

Richard's smile disappeared. "And where are you going?"

"Ah, well, if I wanted you to know, I would tell you now, wouldn't I?" Thomas said with a mocking nod, before turning to leave the great hall.


	6. Jack the Ripper

Episode Six: Jack the Ripper 

Richard de la Poer watched as Thomas Sardonicus left the great hall. He sighed and shook his head at Lisa. "That young man is often a genius, but more often he is a complete, bloody nuisance. Pardon my language, however," he added. "Tonight, we are supposed to be enjoying ourselves, not preoccupying our time with idiotic nephews."

"I see that you and Thomas don't get along very well, do you?" Lisa said with a smile.

"You saw the way he acted," Richard returned. "Blaming me for not attending my uncle's funeral! As if that's any of his business."

"You said something about your uncle delving into some sort of lore or something of that sort," Lisa said slowly. "And that that had something to do with his early death. What did you mean?"

"Well, my uncle was something of an antiquarian," Richard replied. "As well as an occultist. Seances and all that, you know. They aren't safe things to mess with, as many people—even non-Christians—have testified. My uncle devoted his life to studying that sort of thing; except I think he may have gone too far."

"Too far?" Lisa repeated.

Richard shook his head. "I don't know why I'm even telling you all this," he muttered. "It must be the _Phantom of the Opera_ atmosphere this place has. Starts to make me wax Gothic all of a sudden. Anyway, my theory is that somehow my uncle found out something that maybe he wasn't supposed to find, and that might have had something to do with his death. Or maybe he had a weak heart. I don't know."

Lisa nodded, but her thoughts began to wander to her father. Where was he? She hadn't noticed him at all during the entire party. "I think I'll go upstairs for a minute," she said. "I'll be right back."

"Take your time," Richard replied, pouring himself a fifth glass of wine.

Lisa hurried up the spiral staircase to the floor where her father's room was. She pounded on his door. "Dad!" she called. "Dad, are you in here?"

There was no answer, and with every dull thud, her heart quickened with fear and anxiety. She tried the doorknob. Finding it unlocked, she opened the door and rushed inside.

The room was in perfect order, but her father was nowhere in sight. However, she saw a piece of paper on the mantelpiece of the bureau, fluttering in the dusty draught. Lisa picked it up.

"_I'm back again, Lisa, ha ha! You didn't catch me and you never will! –Jack the Ripper."_


End file.
